Legends of Our Valley
Chenango Union, March 27, 1884
The old man, with the lines of threescore and ten, sat beside his silver haired wife before the blazing wood fire. With them the time of labor was past, and in a serene old age they were enjoying the competence which they had acquired in their younger days.
"I came from Rhode Island in this country, without a dollar," said the old man. "All I owned in the world was a fine young horse, but after the Revolutionary war closed, my father, who was an old soldier, and my two brothers, came to the 'far west.' as we then called York State, and I thought I would come too. I lived for a while in Pittsfield, across the river from New Berlin, and one day I went to Norwich on business. Norwich was then only a tavern and one or two log houses, and Utica was just about as large. I started for home late, and the roads were not very plain. They were just marked by cut trees, and by the time I had reached the top of the hill it was night. There were plenty of wolves about, and the country was very sparsely settled. I went on very carefully for a while. My horse acted as though he could see, though I couldn't and he kept the road till going down a steep pitch, his feet went from under him, and there we were. I couldn't get him up, for his feet had slipped under a big log, and I could neither lift that or him. I felt pretty bad, and hallooed for help. As the hours went by I thought of wolves, and thought I heard 'em. At last I did hear a halloo, and saw a light flashing through the trees. I can tell you that was a pretty sight to me, for I thought it must be near midnight, and had eenamost given up. The man lived near a mile away, and had just come to his door to look out before going to bed, and heard me. He helped me get my horse up, and he wasn't hurt a mite, and I stayed all night with him. I can tell you I was thankful to come off so well."
"You don't know much about the shifts we had to make in those days," said the grandmother. "I shall never forget how pleased I was when old Mr. Brown took supper at our house, and helped himself to the second piece of mince pie. 'It seemed so good,' he said, 'to taste a piece of apple mince pie once more. Nobody could fool him, getting up mince pies made of pumpkin.' I did not tell him," said the old lady, "that that very pie was made of pumpkin soaked in vinegar, instead of apples."
"Well those were pretty good times." said the old man, "with all the hardships. Plenty of wild game, and after a few years fruit was plentiful enough. We didn't mind being called out by a squad of neighbors to chase a bear, though we did have pretty close work sometime to get the better of him, and some of us had our clothes torn, and more of a hugging than we cared for before we killed him. One of our neighbors had a pretty close call from the varmints, which I will tell you about some day."
One of grandfather's stories was something pleasant to look forward to, so we wait with patience till he feels inclined to tell it.
No comments:
Post a Comment